


touching you like it's our first time

by plinys



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-20 17:03:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13151076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/pseuds/plinys
Summary: “We have sex in my office all the time.”“Twice,” Ava corrects, “We’ve only had sex in your office twice.”"Time to have sex in yours."





	touching you like it's our first time

**Author's Note:**

> i was going to write the next update to my wip, but i didnt want to give y'all angst on beebo day so i wrote some smut instead (un beta'd sorry, everyones busy on this fine beebo day)

“What did the Legends screw up this time?”

Seeing Sara in her office is a shock to say the least, one that Ava manages to quickly recover from, shutting the door to her office quickly such that nobody notices her unexpected visitor. She’s more than likely successful, nobody at the Time Bureau really pays attention to anyone not on their team, and even then nobody would suspect that a Legend would be here willingly. 

“The fact that you automatically assume-”

“Am I wrong?”

“Yes,” Sara insists, “Well, mostly.”

“So you did mess something up,” Ava asks, crossing over to her desk, the desk that Sara is currently sitting on top off, no doubt messing up Ava’s very important paperwork. Though she supposed she could just add that to the list. 

“I fixed it,” Sara says loudly and defensively, “And that’s not why I’m here.” 

She stops just in front of Sara to ask the question of the hour, “Why are you here?”

Which, seems like an incredibly stupid question a moment later, when she’s close enough to see the look in Sara’s eyes, to recognize the tension in her body, and the flush exposed by the deep v caused by Sara keeping the top three buttons of her own top undone, the way her eyes flicker up to meet Ava’s and then down the lines of her body as well, before finally settling on her lips. 

“To see you.”

“No,” she says, but the protest is on her lips, rather than her hands. The traitorous ones that are already holding onto Sara, already pulling her in closer. Already playing with them hem of her cardigan. “I’m at work.” 

Sara makes a dismissive noise. “We have sex in my office all the time.” 

“Twice,” Ava corrects, “We’ve only had sex in your office  _ twice _ .”

"Time to have sex in yours."

"Sara-"

"I missed you."

The last time was a week ago, which suddenly seems far too long ago for Ava. 

What was it about Sara that drew her back in time and time again? That made her forget all of her important responsibilities and logical sensibilities for just a second just long enough for Sara to slip under her defenses? That made her want to do nothing more than press Sara to the nearest flat surface and remind her who was in charge here?

“I get off in three hours.”

“You could be getting off now,” Sara points out, and this time she is the one that leans into the space between them, closer so that they’re pressed up against each other. Her arms casually resting against Ava’s shoulder, one hand already tugging at the bun she had carefully put her hair up in this morning.

Ava knows from experience that Sara will have it down within minutes. 

Maybe even less.

She’s also pressing up on her toes, which Ava knows means that Sara wants to be kissing her. 

And the fact of the matter is, Ava very much wants to be kissing her too. 

“You’re a bad influence on me.” 

“I know,” Sara insists, before kissing her.

A kiss that Ava doesn’t protest against. If anything she tugs Sara closer, wishing she had the foresight, (or an AI) to lock the door for her, but not caringin the moment because Sara is there and kissing her and warm and welcome and it really has been too long.

That is what Ava blames for the sounds that slip from her lips, desperate and needy, and the one that has Sara pulling back from her with a wild sort of grin on her face.

“Don’t say it,” Ava says, as sternly as she can manage. 

“I wasn’t going to,” Sara lies, that smirk still on her lips.

Ava kisses her so that she doesn’t have to see it anymore.

Using her hands to push Sara’s cardigan off of her shoulders, while Sara finally winds her hands in Ava’s hair and tugs her bun lose, the hair tie snapping and falling onto the ground.

Ava would be a lot more annoyed about that if Sara wasn’t already movies her hands downward, by passing Ava’s blazer and blouse to go straight for her pants, undoing the button and zip with ease and familiarity. 

Ava rucks Sara’s shirt up, shoving her hand up under Sara’s bra, it’s a tight squeeze, but she gets what she wants a moment later, squeezing down with just the right amount of pressure to get Sara to gasp against her mouth.

Which seems only fair considering the fact that Sara has managed to get her hand underneath Ava’s panties, pressing two fingers inside of her, it’s not the best angle, and Ava would much rather tug her pants down and off properly, but that would mean stopping herself from touching Sara which feels impossible. 

So instead she grinds down on the hands against her with impatience that has Sara chuckingly against her lips.

“You’re annoying.”

“Annoyingly attractive,” Sara insists, “And I mean, I could stop.” 

“Don’t you dare.”

Another chuckle, and Ava refuses to admit that Sara’s won, refuses to let her win. 

Though it is becoming increasingly difficult to object to their course of action. She’s not sure if it is even possible now that Sara’s worked Ava’s pants down further, so that she can not only go deeper but press her thumb up against Ava’s clit, moving in just the right direction with just the right pressure that Ava’s hands shake as she tries to undo the buttons of Sara’s shirt.

“Fuck me,” Ava mutters, eventually giving up on the task, and instead leaning forward to rest her head against Sara’s shoulder. To relinquish control for a brief moment. Doing so is rare for her, Ava likes to be in control in all aspects of her life, to have everything orderly and functioning a set way.

Sara’s existence throws all of that off balance. 

“I’m trying to.”

“Try harder,” Ava says, but it’s barely a demand, more like a desperate, plea, “I want you to-”

“Agent Sharpe?”

Ava stills, her breath stuck in her throat, because there’s a knock and her door and a familiar voice, and she’s going to kill Gary. That is, if she doesn’t kill Sara first, because despite the knocking and someone clearly calling her name, Sara still hasn’t stopped fingering her. 

In fact, it’s only when Ava grabs her wrist that Sara finally stops, looking up at Ava with a faux-innocent look, as she says, “What?”

Which is about when Gary knocks again, “Agent Sharpe?”

“Under the desk,” she hisses, at Sara, who moves at an almost languid pace, leaving Ava to grab her cardigan off the floor, and toss it under there with her, before settling down at her desk seat, and staring at the papers on her desk to pretend like she’s working on something.

Only then does she say loud enough for Gary to hear outside the office, “Come in?”

He does come in, only then.

A small blessing since other agents might have been less inclined to knock.

Not that Ava is feeling particularly generous considering what Gary had just interrupted. Still, he stammers some apology about interrupting her work, an apology that Ava only half listens to, because another part of her is focused on the person under the desk, the one that has taken advantage of the fact that Ava hadn’t unbuttoned her pants in her rush to get behind the desk, fingers tugging at them in a way that is insisten and makes it very clear what she wants to do. 

She presses her foot down against the side of Sara’s thigh, in what she hopes comes across clearly as a  _ do not  _ before turning to Gary and plastering on a look that says annoyed superior officer, and not someone whose - whose  _ Sara  _ is attempting to finger her under a desk.

“What is it then?” 

“I just got the report back from a level six in Rhode Island, 1943.” 

“What was happening in 1943?” 

“Well, nothing now,” Gary says, shuffling the papers in his hands. Which is right about the moment when Sara succeeds in tugging Ava’s pants down, something that she only slightly enabled, but Sara was hard to resist, and Ava wasn’t in her clearest headspace. “I mean there was a slight incident, missing future president and all.”

“A level sex isn’t slight, it’s-” her voice catches in her throat, surprise, making it hard to finish her sentence.

Not at the dull report that Gary is giving her, but at the feeling of the wet hot heat of a mouth on her. She pokes at Sara with her foot again, which only seems to enable her, the tongue pressing up against her, slipping inside of her making it very hard to focus on what Gary is saying.

Thankfully he had taken her sudden silence as an opportunity to continue explaining what had occured, detailing a mission by which he had been observing rather than actively participating in. 

Something which a logical part of her brain said was odd, which could only mean one thing, but that logical part of her brain was hard to reach at the moment. 

“Sara,” she hisses without meaning to. 

And for a second, a feeling of panic and dread overtakes her. 

This could be the end of her career, or at least, the end of her appearance as a very serious boss if anyone were to find out  _ who  _ exactly was under her desk and  _ what  _ that had been doing moments before or more specifically  _ what  _ Sara was doing right now. 

“Uh yes, actually,” Gary says, pausing, “It was the Legends that fixed this one, that’s why I brought the report to you, did you already talk to them?”

A small miracle. 

Well, more that a small miracle. 

“No, I-” Ava pauses, hoping her face does not betray her as she tries to organize her thoughts. “Actually, I’d like to call them now. Would you mind leaving so that I could do that.” 

“Yes, sir,” Gary says quick enough, making himself scarce a moment later.

It is not a second after the door shuts that Sara from between her legs says the same, “Yes, sir,” but in a tone that is somehow both mocking and heavy with innuendo. 

“I hate you,” Ava says, rolling the chair backwards so that Sara can climb out. 

Which she does, climbing onto Ava’s lap instead, grinding down against her, before she settles her arms over Ava’s shoulder again, their faces close enough that they’re breathing each other’s air. “No, you don’t.”

“I do,” she insists. 

“You love me,” Sara counters.

A statement that comes so casual from Sara’s lips. 

A statement that Ava cannot even begin to fathom, isn’t even close enough to be ready to deal with. 

She kisses her, instead of having to deal with it, something that Sara responds to instantly, this time grinding down against her with purpose, one hand slipping back down to where it was before. Not casual or teasing touches this time, but purposeful, on a mission.

A mission that Ava wholeheartedly supports. 

It doesn’t take long after that, before she’s coming on Sara’s fingers, it seems like too much and too long, but she’s needed this. She’s needed this release since the second she saw Sara in her office. Ava kisses Sara to keep her name from spilling out past her lips. Holds onto her into she can remember where she is and who they are and what this feeling that lingers inside of her after the haze of orgasm leaves could possibly mean. 

When she falls back to herself, it’s slowly, still kissing Sara in an almost lazy motion, still there in her desk chair, rocking back and forth together. 

“Thank you,” she says, finally against Sara’s lips, before pulling back to try and remember how to breathe properly.

“You don’t have to thank me for every orgasm,” Sara points out, “Not that it’s not nice-”

“I mean, for Rhode Island, the level six.”

This time Sara laughs, that sound that Ava has grown to find endearing. 

“So no thanks for the orgasm, I see how it is, next time I’ll think twice about coming to visit.”

Next time.

Because of course there would be a next time.

There always was for them.

Something that Ava still wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing. 

Only time would tell.

And in the meantime, 

“Well,” Ava says, “If you’d lock the door, I think I could find some way to return the favor.” 

  
  
  
  



End file.
